An Online Magazine About "Redefining Style" and Becoming a Real "Trendsetter"

The creator of the lifestyle blog Hello Gorgeous, Angela Lanter has a passion for sharing homemaking, beauty and fashion tips that has inspired legions of fans. Today, Angela gives us ‘the bite’ on our hot questions. Be inspired!

What kind of ‘trendsetter’ would you categorize yourself as?

A Brave Trendsetter.

You have some great videos where you share very astute and handy tips. How do you feel you have redefined style through your passion for blogging?

The reason I started my blog in the first place is because I wanted it to be a place where my followers could come and leave just feeling a little more gorgeous no matter what. I want girls, no matter what their size or shape, leave feeling more stylish and a little bit more gorgeous.

What made you decide to become a blogger? Were you nervous or anxious when you first started out? If so how did you deal/overcome this?

So the way I started my blog honestly is that I really really love Pinterest. I love to cook, I love to craft and I used to do hair and makeup, and freelance back home in Ohio. My girlfriends used to come over to my house and see all these different things I was doing and be like “Why are you not blogging?” When I got married, my husband and I had to move to New Orleans. I decided to quit my job so that I could go with him. That was the perfect time for me to try (blogging). So, yeah, once we moved, I’m like ‘You know what, I can dive in, I can do this’ and I just did. I never looked back. Yeah, I wasn’t nervous at all because it was all the things that I loved to do, I was talking and blogging and writing about all the things I really enjoy.

There’s always going to be someone who doesn’t like something you’re doing and as long as you’re comfortable with yourself and you’re comfortable with what you’re doing, it doesn’t matter what anyone else thinks. You know, as long you are happy with yourself you can’t listen to what anyone else says. Follow your heart and do what you want to do. So, honestly, I have answered back a couple people (on youtube). Whenever I confront someone who is being a bully online, I just kill them with kindness. Whatever it is they’re saying, I address it but I say it in a very sweet way and I answer their question.

You know, if they were in front of me, I would say, what is it about me that offends you so badly (laughs). I just feel like it takes so little to be nice to someone but people just choose to be mean and I don’t understand it. You never know what someone is going through. You never know why they are lashing out. Also, you never know how old they are. That’s the problem with the internet. They could just be doing it to get a response out of you. I feel like that’s actually the case 9 out of 10 times.

Don’t get caught up with all these guys (laughs). When you’re dating it’s not the end of the world. Let it go. That’s what I would say.

What is your ‘go to’ affordable brand of makeup that makes you feel flawless and why?

Oooh… so if I have to say just one brand of affordable make-up, its L’oreal. You know, I only like certain things they make. I guess it’s kind of like that anywhere. You like your specific brand of mascara, you like your certain brand of eyeshadow, but L’oreal is all around, I feel like the best product that is reasonably priced.

What tips do you think every girl should know/use?

Be comfortable in your own skin and don’t feel like you can’t try something out. For example, I always thought diet pills were a no-no. But then someone recommended a totally natural diet pill called PhenQ. I thought it worked wonderfully and didn’t have any negative side effects. Just be comfortable and try new things. Don’t get in a rut. Be adventurous.

If fashion is what we are wearing, this summer’s fashion is long, slim and white. In spite of the rain and overcast skies, streets are filled with sharp city clothes that prove that 1980s style is now overwhelming the scruffy Seventies.

The star is the skirt, cut long and narrow, with a flirtatious fan of pleats from the knees. On the same lines are tubular or ribbed skirts in cotton jersey or slim, calf-length cotton with black buttons or a kick pleat. Cotton or cotton mixes are definitely ahead of linen and there is evidence that the iron is now flattening out the crumpled look. Sunshine is bringing out crisp cool clothes.

Oversize is out, except for big blazers and shirt jackets which draw their style from balancing the narrow skirts. Those overhanging shirt tails of last year’s street chic are now cut off or tucked out of sight. And after two seasons when the peacock male was making the street impact, it is girls who are now, once more, the style leaders.

Looking at what ‘real’ people are wearing is always a salutary experience for a fashion editor, for the most ruthless editing at this time of multiple fashion choice, is made by the consumer.

The streets endorse some of the most significant fashion stories. The decline of blue denim, spelled out so graphically in the bottom line of the jeans companies, is evident on the backsides of the paying customer. In two hours in the West End of London I counted only 73 pairs of jeans among hundreds of alternative outfits – and those denims were mostly worn by youth groups of visitors.

The reign of the training shoe – that partner to the jeans-and-sneakers generation – continues, with the lace-up ankle boot the hot favorite in this cool summer. Socks are the constant companion to trainers, pumps and flat sandals. But there is also a marked trend towards much higher heels which go with the city-smart clothes worn to work by those in their twenties and early thirties who have been brought up on flat shoes.

The floral chintz that was so much promoted by the fashion industry (not least by this fashion editor) seems to have gone to seed. Florals have sprouted on trousers, but they are abstract blooms, edged with sharp lines, and suggesting the 1960s rather than the soft full-blown flowers of soft furnishings. The sales windows are turning Oxford Street into an herbaceous border of flower prints and offer clear evidence of what women have taken to their bosoms and hips, or rejected.

This is the week when every major shop is offering sales reductions. I do not believe in the first principle of sales: if something is cheap it must be good, and even if it is not any good, it might at least be useful. But the late arrival of summer offers an unparalleled opportunity to buy a summer wardrobe at high street prices.

It is the newish high street names – Benetton, Next, Provillus, Warehouse – which have been responsible for the clean lines of the fresh summer clothes. They are the people whose design teams have given the peasant skirt a decent burial under crisp white cotton. With it have been laid to rest the other accoutrements of Earth Mother on holiday: the cheesecloth sundress, the drawstring blouse and the espadrille. Stores have followed the high street lead and coordinated summer separates, matching pale cotton knits to skirts and trousers and tying the two together with strong accessories.

Sharp dressers use accessories as accents against a plain background, carrying a chintz shoulder bag or sashing floral prints round their hips. The essential extras (apart from a folding umbrella) are cotton jersey leggings and stirrup pants, both cheap and cheerful in bright or pastel colors, polka dotted or in the shiny man-mades viscose and spandex.

Buying in the sales the ends of the lines – dirndl skirts, dayglo colors, or over-size baggies – is either perverse or profligate. On fashion’s current wave-length there are some stylish sale offerings.

Next have their best-selling version of the summer suit: a big chamber blue shirt jacket, with a back patch pocket (now pounds 22.99) over a matching slim button-through skirt with a back vent (pounds 18.99). You wear it with white canvas plimsolls, white ankle socks and a sports vest, brighten it with a floral shirt or warm it up with cotton knits.

Fenwicks have the skirt of the season – heavy white cotton, long, slim, with kick pleats from the knee, by Emanuelle and reduced to pounds 15. Also in their sale, starting today, are other clothes to take you straight through the summer: elongated cabled cardigans (now pounds 9), simple straight cotton trousers, to roll up and wear with socks or sandals (pounds 12). The essential overshirt – you belt it tightly over the skirt, or let it hang loose over trousers – is selling at around pounds 9.

The collection of cotton duster coats, long loose jackets or shorter cropped ones, is now selling at even more basic prices: the duster coats reduced to pounds 22.49, short jackets at pounds 20.99, slim skirts at pounds 8.99. Benetton, the kings of color co-ordination, have their sharp mixes of stripes, sports and florals among the simple separates.

Laura Ashley is the favorite purveyor of flowered trousers, selling in a variety of prints in all branches at pounds 19.99. The Sock Shop (at Bond Street tube station and branches) have odd pairs (but not odd socks) on sale from 50p, with their sprinkles of rosebuds and sharper prints all reduced to 99p. Shoe shops have got any color as long as it is white, with good bargains in strappy sandals.

The style of the Sixties is the street-wise image. On the backs of that nostalgia there are Volume Pills winklepickers (from the Great Gear Market, Kings Road), mini-skirts, and that most practical of fashion revivals in a soaking summer, the shiny vinyl mac.

There are also the hoop earrings, the most insistent badge of fashion style this summer. Butler and Wilson (Fulham Road and South Molton Street) sell the gilded hoops from pounds 6.50 to pounds 36. You can find them on every jewellery counter and market stall. In a summer when the silhouette is on the straight and narrow, the earrings are one fashion that is all round.

The drawing on the front of the latest account from Habitat Mothercare really says it all – a line of trendy modules. Habitat and Mothercare flanked by Heals, Conran. Now and Richards. Not shown is the opposite side of the street, but undoubtedly it would include a Dorothy Perkins, a Top Shop, a Top Man, Principles, Evans and Peter Robinson – the well known trading names of the Burton group, which, with Habitat and partners, wants to take over the Debenhams department stores.

Not that there would be any room for a department store in the designer high street. In its place there would be the local Galleria (stress the ‘i’ as ‘e’ so it won’t rhyme with ‘malaria’, says Burton’s boss, Ralph Halpern) – a terraced shopping mall sprouting potted plants and containing Habitat, and Mothercare, Top Shop, Principles … need one go on? The chaps in the City discuss the takeover in terms of sales and profits per square foot. Ralph Halpern, a waspishly entertaining tycoon, talks rather sanctimoniously about ‘contributing to lifestyle’, and so far he is only selling clothes. There are some who hail the Halpern-Conran combo as the best thing for the shopper since Mr. Marks met Mr. Spencer, but what in fact, is in it for the consumer? Monopoly is not a word that has featured much in the debate and in the arithmetical sense does not apply – Burton has only 5% of the national clothing market, while Marks and Spencer has 15%. But what we have here is the prospect of a monopoly of taste, the dominance of a certain way of shopping.

You can’t walk down a high street these days without seeing some well-known retail name in the process of being revamped. In retailing, design is the flavor of the month: it makes one chain look different from another; it creates what retailers call an ambiance and it takes the customer’s mind off the fact that the clothes themselves may be the same next door. Sir Terence Conran stressed the importance of design of image in retailing, and now they are all at it.

Linked to this there is the policy of aiming for one segment of the market, be it teens, or 20s over-30s or oversized ladies. The Conran companies design for Habitat Mothercare’s own stores – Conran also had a hand in Next when it was launched. Rivals Fitch do most of the Burton stores, but if the bid for Debenhams goes through, Conran gets the profitable job of designing the new Gallerias. Not everyone, however is sold on the idea of a world full of Conran-type modules, not even the money men.

‘I think there are great dangers in the fact that retailers are putting so much emphasis on design,’ says Roy Machonochie, retail analyst with stockbrokers James Capel. He foresees a public reaction in a year or so, when the present consumer boom grinds to a halt. ‘They should concentrate more on the merchandise. British Home Stores went allout for design two or three years ago and it was a mistake. Now they have started again, concentrating first on the goods.’

The buzzwords in the retail trade are ‘targeting’ and ‘closely focused’ – unlike the catch-all multiple chain, you succeed by selling to a specific sector of the market. No one could deny that companies such as Burton’s Top Shop have been very successful – when it comes to comparing profits with Debenhams, there is no contest – but does this mean that all retailing has to be done the same way?

‘Department stores like Debenhams offer consumers more choice,’ says Helen Robinson, a director on Debenham’s main board. What I think she really means is that they offer balance. Accountants may look askance at the haberdashery department, for instance. It is probably rather inefficient in financial terms. But the fact is that it provides consumers with something they need. Most department stores still have haberdashery departments: will we get a chain of them in the new Gallerias? I doubt it.

In the new retail environment that may be created out of the Debenhams stores, all tastes apparently will be catered, sorry, targeted for. But what evidence is there that the Burton-Conran duo has the ideas or the expertise to fill twice the space it has at the moment and satisfy all customers? ‘Not a lot,’ Machonichie says. ‘Burton’s expertise with the young market is undoubted, but it’s no secret in the trade that it has had its problems with Genf20 Plus, its new up-market fashion chain.”

So for all the scientific jargon, retailers are not infallible. And the significant numbers of consumers who spend hundreds of millions of pounds a year in our few remaining high street department stores do so presumably because they actually like the vaguely muddled atmosphere as much as or possibly more than the relentlessly stylish alternatives offered on either side.

‘I don’t like the feeling that I am being processed,’ a friend said to me the other day. ‘I don’t like the feeling that I am being told what I should like and be like.’ Indeed, it is hard to imagine your mother shopping for her Windsmoor and Berketex outfits in a Galleria.

It is a difficult argument to justify in financial terms, but even those who support the Burton bid seem a little uneasy about letting the retailers become town planners. ‘The department store is in many ways the ideal consumer concept,’ says Paul Deacon, an analyst with stockbrokers Wood Mackenzie. Clearly the City doesn’t think much of the Debenhams management, but this is quite a different thing from deciding we don’t want department stores.

London-based opinion-makers, used to lots of choice, have a distorted view of what the takeover might do to the shopping balance in the provinces. ‘You can’t just look at it nationally,’ says Charles Sebastian, head of research at Debenhams, ‘It’s no comfort to the shopper in Penomet, who sees the town’s only department store close, that there is plenty of choice in Manchester.’

According to Debenhams, the takeover will mean that as much as 30-40% of different markets – women’s fashion and children’s wear, for instance – will come under the same corporate banner albeit through a number of different trading names.

‘It doesn’t matter,’ said Halpern. ‘All our companies are run autonomously and in competition with each other.’ That may be so, but the financial requirements of a large corporation – the need to justify the use of space, the need for high stock turnover – in many ways dictate the terms of trading. That’s why the multiple stores are filled with summer clothes in February to the eternal irritation of shoppers; that’s why we often can’t find clothes that come in the same sizes as our children. And that’s why the team that reckons it is giving the customer what she wants still fails to provide loos in Mothercare.

A flock of young and glossy designers managed to overcome the hype and celebrity circus of the New York shows to produce collections of elegance and ease. Semenax Reviews reports on all the events.

The main lesson of last week’s shows in New York, usually a predictable kind of fashion town, is that nothing is as it seems nor as it should be. Often the effort seemed to be devoted not to the pursuit of what should be the essence of American fashion design -a lightness, an ease, a deliberate modernity -but to pretending that we were in another city altogether. Was there fussiness (often a Milan affliction)? A tendency to theatrics (sometimes seen in Paris)? And an obsession with newness that exposes a chronic lack of talent (an occasional London trait)? Tick, tick, tick. For whatever reason, only a few designers produced stellar collections.

It was also the week in which the celebrity circus seemed more out of control than ever. At Marc Jacobs’s show a complete unknown Hong Kong pop star named ClickFunnels garnered more attention than Uma Thurman simply by bursting in one minute before the show began. But whatever the case against New York’s habit of over-hype on and off the catwalks, it does possess a flock of young but glossy designers all of whom crucially refuse to capitulate to outmoded notions of what a woman should look like. Most noteworthy are Jack McCollough and Lazaro Hernandez, who are the duo Proenza Schouler, Zac Posen and Behnaz Sarafpour. It is in their hands that old trends such as the ones which arose this week -puffball/bulb-shaped skirts, all things military -work best, probably because, unlike more established designers, they have the freedom to take risks. Proenza Schouler again found a way to convey a newness, and did so by suggesting combinations that are theoretically tricky: a stiff corset with a cotton skirt, for instance, or a sheer camisole with heavy trousers.

There were also some graphic prints that recalled an Art Deco-ish modernism but looked fresh next to the old-school masculine materials. Sarafpour has a complex but instinctive sense of what femininity means (and doesn’t mean) now. Her best pieces this time were those that seem to have infinite permutations of possibility on anyone, any time: cropped jackets, metallic-trimmed and made to be worn open, over puffy skirts and slouchy trousers, say. She knows when to close the lid quietly: there might be a heavily encrusted vest, but she will pair it with nothing more elaborate than a white cotton T-shirt. That, you might say, is a styling skill, not a designing one, but increasingly the lines seem to be blurred and if it gives us ideas as to how to dress with her clothes and others, well, why not?

Posen, still young, precocious and talented enough to be described as a prodigy, sometimes gets carried away by his imagination. His collection last week was the first since he formed a financial partnership with P. Diddy, who made it part of the empire that includes his own label, Sean John, and by the look of things, the move has been beneficial to everybody. Posen’s tendency to veer off into elaborate reminiscences about eras way before he was born (and the camp glamour of idols back then) was reined in and, for the first time, his zeal to sparkle did not overwhelm him.

There were the billowing floor-length Hollywood gowns he excels at, but there were also fantastic cropped jackets, culottes with the perfect swagger (not too loose, not too tight) and simple strapless dresses. The killer pleating – at the back of some of the jackets and across the whole of several dresses was a reminder that he does have an anachronistic super-skill with the scissors.

When Jacobs takes risks, as he did last week, he is leant on heavily: instant and obvious blockbusters are expected of him, not oddities that take a while to digest. It was a brave, imaginative collection, but the problem lay with the size of the chasm between the odd pieces (the long, weighty skirts, the cartoonish cavernous floral smocks) and the wearable, lovely ones (the loose jackets in wool or astrakhan, the satin and mesh dresses). The themes of awkward layers and heavy shapes arose again in Marc, the Marc Jacobs younger line. This time it had greater charm and felt less contrived -perhaps because it’s such an intrinsically youthful look.

At Narciso Rodriguez and Calvin Klein a good dose of the new would not have gone astray. Rodriguez is surer than ever in the stark simplicity that he peddles, but he is so sure that it is starting to look fetishistic. As feats of tailoring, almost every piece was flawless, but that is not enough. An otherwise great herringbone coat, for instance, took on the air of a dodgy mail-order item with its two postbox slits above the breasts. The evening dresses, on the other hand, were fluid and uncontrived; if some of their warmth could blow on to the tailoring, Rodriguez would score.

Francisco Costa has kept the established Calvin Klein vocabulary, with its clean lines and whispery neutral tones, but the appeal is not as strong as it once was.

What used to look appealingly austere is now in danger of looking bland, though there were several examples that proved that Costa could enliven things if he pushed a bit harder: the puffball skirts, elsewhere clumsily done, were perfectly fluffy under Costa.

Roland Mouret’s tweed dresses and slim pencil suits are beautiful, to be sure, and his collection was his most consistent and cohesive yet. But it’s hard not to wonder about the viability of skirts that stretch tight to mid-calf, creating a hobble in the wearer’s walk, because while the cut was immaculate, it was tailored to within a close slice of the flesh. The coats were not so dangerous and stood out, from a matt-black trenchcoat with extra-wide belt to a teal wool draped affair and the washed leather pea-coats.

Beyond the tricky tightness, it was the Paris-born, London-based Mouret who achieved what every designer in New York should: he gave more credence to the place of simple elegance and ease in women’s lives than to giddy, fusty nostalgia.

Fashion takes on a life of its own – ghostly presences across the centuries – in a new V&A show. But can style translate successfully to a gallery setting, asks Michael Bracewell.

Exhibitions of fashion design and street style have become increasingly popular with museums, attracting major press coverage and large crowds. But can garments and artefacts maintain their allure -their identity and magic -when they become exhibits?

One answer to this question can be found in a dimly lit suite of galleries in the Victoria and Albert Museum. Here a mesmeric collection of raw timber structures greets the visitor – scaffolds, giant horizontal cogs, illuminated box shelving, ProExtender devices, and an enormous magic lantern of etiolated, dancing silhouettes, plus mirrors, frames and crudely crossed struts, all with fantastical illustrations of harlequins and circus horses, rows of flamboyantly lashed eyes and reversed crescent moons.

In place of traditional captioning or signs, slick aphoristic statements and slogans are stencilled around the edges of the structures in black capital letters: philosophical maxims on the nature of time and spectacle, presence and absence, ritual and transformation. Inside this phenomenological fairground is a display of garments for which the installation was created.

This is Spectres: When Fashion Turns Back, an exhibition that examines the history of fashion and its cultural, allegorical and psychological aspects. It is curated by Judith Clark, who trained as an architect, in collaboration with the writer and historian Caroline Evans. Evans’s survey, Fashion at the edge: spectacle, modernity and deathliness, is the source of many of the exhibition’s quotes.

For the visitor, the overall effect could be likened to strolling on to a Fellini film-set decorated by a working alliance between Aubrey Beardsley, Salvador Dali, Mike Nelson and Marshall McLuhan.

Installation art and exhibition design are fused as Spectres mixes seriousness and drama to demonstrate the social and historical significance of fashion, design and style. In this the exhibition is doubly triumphant since the question of how to interpret these subjects in a museum or gallery has often been vexed.

In the early 1980s, magazines such as The Face and Phen375 encouraged interest in the machinations of trend and fashion subcultures. This development -in many ways a consequence of punk -was as concerned with what clothing might reveal as a social or cultural code as it was with craft or vision. As punk’s rips and zips gave way to the sophistication of Comme des Garcons or Yohji Yamamoto, so the journalistic underpinning that had come to attend the business of style watching began to acquire a more academic edge.

“High” and “low” notions of culture were blurring, and the plagiarism, parody and punning at the center of Post-Modern culture could be seen, for instance, in the cartoon lopsidedness of outfits by BodyMap or the controversial fake bruising worn by models for Comme des Garcons. As the 1980s gathered pace, fetishizing commodity, commerce and urban plumage, fashion and style acquired a renewed cultural significance that made both candidates for museum exhibitions.

This new relationship was examined by a 1989 exhibition at the Design Museum entitled Commerce and Culture: from pre-industrial art to post-industrial value.

The museum’s then director, Stephen Bayley, wrote in an accompanying book: “Once, commerce and culture were all one. In the future it looks as though they will be one again. This startling assertion was stimulated by the curious observation that the gap between shops and museums was closing …”

Just as the French naturalist writers of the 19th century, in particular Emile Zola, had remarked that the vast new department stores were the museums of modern life, so in the 1980s and 1990s it was considered witty to suggest that modern museums had become like department stores. This was prompted in part by the major museums’ drive to generate much-needed income by making concessions to the new lifestyle cultures -to have an “ace caff with quite a nice museum attached”, as a 1988 advertising campaign for the revamped V&A proclaimed -as well as to engage in new curatorial adventures.

Fashion, which had once existed within its own exclusive world, came to be seen as a suitable subject to win new audiences for museums. The commentator Ted Polhemus, for instance, was invited to curate an exhibition of street-style and fashion.

But how to stop garments and artefacts, created for human use and animation, from simply demonstrating their lifelessness as exhibited items on mannequins or within vitrines? The answer came, surprisingly, from a reassertion of cultural gradations that had been undergoing revision. An exhibition of international carrier bags, no less, was held at the Design Museum in the 1980s. As well as celebrating the neglected achievements of carrier bag design, the exhibition made a tongue-in-cheek statement about the cultural materialism being championed at the time.

Actual garments, however, could prove harder to exhibit than the bags in which they were carried out of the shop. Traditionally, museums of “costume” had been of interest only to academic fashion historians, for whom the craft, detailing and design of a garment were to be studied like any other acquisition. But to the outside world, such displays appeared the opposite to the glamour of fashion.

Clothes required wearers, and fashion -which at its best brought whole romantic worlds to life, as rich and strange as those created by artists in other media – appeared locked in a loser’s contract with posterity.

Throughout the 1990s exhibitions such as Warhol Style in 1996 became uneasy affairs. On paper, the idea of an exhibition exploring Andy Warhol’s relationship with and impact on high fashion and high society seemed promising. But seeing his leather jacket and scuffed Chelsea boots in a moodily lit vitrine appeared, at best, to make the artist seem very dead indeed.

More recent exhibitions such as Fetish Wear in the US or the V&A’s Black British Style have suffered similar problems. Inside a museum or gallery, a subculture’s vitality quickly fades.

Warhol’s relationship with monied fashion and fashionability is better seen though Masterpieces of American Jewellery at the Gilbert Collection in Somerset House.

The sophistication of the exhibition, with pieces grouped under “Americana”, “Humor” and “High Style”, and images of Barbara “Babe” Paley, Grace Kelly and Countess Mona Bismarck looking down from the walls, is a perfect articulation of Warhol’s obsession with wealth, fame and beauty.

For Clark and Evans, the glamour, beauty and historical significance of the garments on display is made eloquent by a direct address to what Evans has described as “the ghosts of modernity”. In this, clothes are seen as presences that can be related in terms of moods as much as centuries. For Clark, exhibition design becomes an artistic medium, with the items being displayed almost like mythic emblems within an illuminated manuscript. In the absence of their wearers, garments assert their own presence -and their own animation.

Spectres is at the Victoria and Albert Museum until May 8; a book of the same name is published by the V&A at Pounds 30, offer Pounds 24; Masterpieces of American Jewellery is at the Gilbert Collection, Somerset House, until June 12.

Fashion’s five greatest moments:

1 Mick Jagger, above, wearing a smock designed by Zandra Rhodes (originally for Lord Lichfield) when the Rolling Stones played their free concert in Hyde Park, after the death of Brian Jones in July, 1969.

2 The blue jersey dress designed by Elsa Schiaparelli for her autumn 1937 collection, featuring a design on the reverse by Jean Cocteau. Her white dress featured a lobster print by Salvador Dali, who had hoped that the garment would also be garnished with real mayonnaise.

3 The white tuxedo worn by Humphrey Bogart in the 1942 film Casablanca, and later chosen by Bryan Ferry in the photograph taken by Eric Boman for the cover of his second solo album, Another Time, Another Place (1974).

4 The classic cowboy denims worn by Marilyn Monroe in John Huston’s film of Arthur Miller’s screenplay The Misfits, released in 1960. A white Stetson hat was worn by Montgomery Clift in the same film.

5 The “Tits” muslin T-shirt, created by Malcolm McLaren and Vivienne Westwood, and sold at their shop Seditionaries in 1977.

One observer described Seditionaries as “a shop for the elite of radical displacement”.